Surfacing
by caoimhe
Summary: Abby thinks. About Dave. Dabbyish fluff with slight Dave-angst undertones.


**surfacing::by caoimhe**

*****

disclaimer: Dave is mine. Every inch of his body is mine to do what I want with. Except not, obviously.  
rating: It couldn't be a lot more harmless. So, whatever the lowest rating is in everyone's countries.  
author's notes: I'm so not really into Dave/Abby. Because Dave should be with me, clearly. But what the hell. I just felt like doing a little exploration. Short, pure fluff, with a hint of the ever-popular dave was abused theory. And why not?  
All work and no [feedback][1] makes caoimhe a dull girl.

*****

He could smile. She noticed that.

Alright, it was an arrogant smile. And it was usually inappropriate. But, it was...something. A smile. It was refreshing. It wasn't like anyone else round here ever smiled.

Yeah, he could smile. And it wasn't just any smile. It was a great smile.

Sometimes she came into work, and it was still dark outside, and all she wanted to do was go home and curl up in bed, or cry, or do something pathetic and miserable. Sometimes she came into work feeling like that, and the first person she saw wasn't Carter or Luka- who both came with the weight of the world on their shoulders and pain in their eyes and gave her the sense that she should be helping them somehow. Sometimes the first person she saw was Dave. And he didn't gaze at her with tortured eyes and make her feel guilty and burdened. He grinned and said something sarcastic and chauvinistic-

and she felt better.

No pain. No sympathy. No serious conversations. Just big brown eyes and floppy hair and a smile and an insensitive comment. 

It was_ nice_, occasionaly, to have someone that insensitive. Someone who didn't shy away from truths that were staring everyone in the face. Someone who looked at patients and announced cheerfully that they were "beyond dead."

Someone that brutally, hopelessly honest.

Because at the end of the day, much as they didn't like to admit it, Dave had a tendency to say what everyone else was thinking anyway.

Maybe that was why they didn't like him. It was kind of frightening to be confronted with your own thoughts in that way.

He could make her laugh. She noticed that. Occasionally, he would mutter some comment about another member of staff or something, and she had to laugh. She never did it while he was standing there. To his face, she just rolled her eyes, gave him a withering glance. But when he was gone, she let herself laugh. Because even though she hated to admit it- he was kind of funny.

There weren't many people who made her laugh these days.

She watched him. Sometimes. She wanted to learn from him how to be so dismissive of other people's feelings. She thought that would probably make life easier.

But when she watched him, she'd sometimes catch glimpses of- something. She didn't know what. An indefinable look. A momentary flinch. Sometimes she wondered if she could scratch the surface- just a little- and find something there. Something unexpected.

She just wondered.

No one knew anything about Dave. Abby felt like the whole ER knew far more about her, and her family, and her relationships, than she really wanted them too. And everyone knew at least something personal about Luka, and Carter, and Dr. Greene. Even Dr. Weaver.

But no one knew anything about Dave.

Which made him kind of interesting, actually. 

Abby had a lot of people experience. It came with the job. She liked to try a bit of amateur psychology now and again. When she watched Dave, she knew there had to be a reason for him being the way he was. And she speculated, in an idle moment. Let herself wonder.

Maybe he was from a big family. A youngest child, maybe. Had to fight for attention when he was growing up. Had to show off, had to be cocky to get noticed. She'd seen that before. She could imagine him having a big family, somehow. She pictured a lot of brothers. An Italian mother. She didn't really know why, but that's what she saw when she tried to imagine his family. 

Maybe he'd had a messed up childhood, like her. Maybe the humor was a defense mechanism. Maybe he was trying to keep people away by acting the way he did, because he was scared of letting people get too close. Scared of being let down by them. She knew how that felt.

Maybe he'd moved around a lot when he was a kid, and had developed his attitude as a way of desensitizing himself- to stop himself from caring about people so that he wouldn't miss them.

Maybe.

Or maybe he was really was just that annoying.

She tried to stop herself wondering. It was kind of embarrasing.

But there was something there, something else going on with him. He had these rare flashes of sympathy with certain patients. Just occasionally, he became the sort of doctor everyone wanted him to be. Compassionate. Sensitive. Helpful. Just with certain cases. Children. Abuse cases. She noticed that.

And she wondered.

~*~

"Heey Abby Road."

He had that habit that Romano had of giving people names they didn't ask for. But when Romano did it, it was different. It was exercising power, demonstrating a lack of respect. With Dave, it seemed more like affection. It was annoying, but also kind of endearing, in a childish way.

"How are things in the world of nursing? Or doctoring, or med studenting, or whatever the hell it is you're doing these days?"

Abby was sheltering in doorway outside the ER, contemplating having a cigarette when Dave decided to join her. She pretended to glare at him, but was secretly grateful for the company.

Dave grinned at her non- response- apparently it was the sort of response he was used to. "You look like you're desperate for a cigarette, you know?" He smirked knowingly. "How long since you quit?"

Abby blinked and stared at him. Was it that obvious? "How did you-?"

Smirk. "You just have that look of the recovering addict about you." 

She punched his arm lightly.

Still. She hadn't smoked for months. Dave was actually being quite...perceptive. She studied him. Perceptive, and- was he good looking? She entertained the thought for a few seconds, and hastily dismissed it. She wasn't even going to think about it. He wasn't good looking; he was- he was- he was _Dave._

"Hey, good call on that case today, Dave. The little boy. I don't know how parents can treat their kids like that."

And there it was. That strange look passed across his face, just hinting that there was something behind the bravado. Abby noticed, and added it to her catalogue of things she wanted to know about Dave.

"Yeah. Well." That was his response, and he didn't look at her.

A pause. 

And then that little kid's grin and a flippant comment, and he went back inside, swinging his stethoscope around his head.

She watched him for a moment, as he disappeared into the ER. And those idle speculations began surfacing again. But she shook her head and told herself to stop being ridiculous. And to stop wondering about him because she absolutely did not care and wasn't interested. He was arrogant and cocky and unfocused and insensitive, and he called himself Dr. Dave, for God's sake.

She turned to go back inside.

He could smile, though.

She noticed that.

**~end~**

   [1]: mailto:strawberrycaoimhe@chickmail.com



End file.
